Some of the Truth
by Mr. Herodotus
Summary: Severus Snape goes to renown Sherlock Holmes because he suspects that the evil Voldemort/Moriarty will kill his true love, Lily. Also, Mary's been acting oddly, is it because of the baby, or is the stress from having so many secrets finally weighing her down? There will be plenty of feels, and secrets!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is just the prologue so it's not going to be that long. In fact, it's probably going to be very short. Please R &R! I'll give you virtual cookies (::) (::)**

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Prologue

Sherlock sat staring morosely at his bullet filled wall. It had been weeks since his last case and months since his last interesting one. Apparently, most people seemed to assume that if their cat wouldn't eat their 'num-nums', it was an emergency worthy of Sherlock Holmes.

"Sherlock!" came the frail voice of his landlady Mrs. Hudson. "There's a man here for you."

"Tell him to go away unless he's not stupid!" Sherlock yelled back down to her.

There was silence for a while, and then Mrs. Hudson replied, "He says he's willing to pay."

Sherlock closed his eyes and sighed. Money was so mundane. You could find it anywhere, and it could buy anything that you could get from your average homeless network. Also, money was only temporary, it was rarely biodegradable, and it smelled. Still, people loved their money and if they were willing to give it away there was always a chance that they were _really_ desperate for help.

"Send him up, please!" yelled Sherlock.

The steps to the old flat creaked and groaned as the client climbed up to Sherlock's floor.

Sherlock sat analyzying everything that he heard. The steps didn't make as much sound as usual, this person was trying to be quiet, _why_ though?

A soft knock came from the door. "Come in, it's open"

The door swung in to reveal Sherlock's next client. The man was of average height, had long greasy hair, and a sharp, hooked nose. He was wearing a black jacket and a gray dress shirt underneath.

The man surveyed the flat quickly with his cold black eyes, glancing over any possibly important details.

The client turned to face Sherlock, "Sherlock Holmes I presume?"

"Yes," Sherlock answered, "and you are?"

"Snape, Severus Snape"

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 **The characters in my fanfiction are property of Sherlock BBC created by Stephen Moffat BBC America and Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling.**


	2. Chapter 2

**So, I don't know how long this first chapter is going to be. It might be a hundred words, it might be a thousand, who knows? I'm going to try to update at least once every week, but probably more often if I can.**

 **Thank you's to all of the people that bothered to read the prologue.**

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Sherlock stiffened. He knew that name.

The Snape's used to live in by the Holmes' old house in Spinner's End. They were an unfriendly, unhappy family. The grass on their lot was always brown and withered, their drapes were always drawn, and two of them were always yelling at each other-constantly.

Every morning you could hear them going at it. Screeching at at the top of their lungs, as if trying to have a competition to see who could wake more people in the neighborhood, it was usually a tie. Sometimes their little boy would join in, yelling at his parents to give it a rest or he'd just start spewing profanity at them. The Snape's were the cause of the Holmes' departure from Spinner's End.

Sherlock had never known Severus personally, Mycroft on the other hand, did. Whenever the two siblings got tired of each other they would go their separate ways. Sherlock would go to his room to play pirates and Mycroft would go out to meet Severus.

The two were close friends. They confided in each other and took turns complaining about different things. Whenever Mycroft returned home from being with Severus he would be more rebellious, pushing more rules and talking back to his parents. Sev, as Mycroft opted to call him, was the best-worst influence for Sherlock. Sev was always being a rebel and ignoring his parents. This encouraged Sherlock to rebel thinking that it was normal and 'cool', it also encouraged him to try to go beyond his comfort zone, which helped him greatly in his certain field of work.

Severus spoke again, "Are you going to invite me in?"

Sherlock snapped out of his thoughts and looked up towards Snape. He was still standing awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of whether to come in or not. His hand was stuffed in his left pocket, he was left-handed. Through the pocket Sherlock could see that he was clutching something, a weapon? An umbrella? A wad of money?

"Yes, yes. Come in," Sherlock said motioning towards the red armchair opposite his sofa.

Severus walked in hesitantly and sat in the chair causing it to sink softly. Snape looked around the room uncomfortably, his eyes fell on the bullet filled, sprayed on smiley face. He raised his eyebrows in question.

Sherlock shrugged him off, "I get bored."

That was only partially true. That face had always been there , not even Mrs. Hudson knew when it arrived. The bullet holes on the wall were only added after Sherlock's third week in the flat. A burglar had come in demanding to see all the files Sherlock had. Sherlock seized the man's gun hand and thrust it towards the wall causing him to fire. After that Sherlock added to the collection of bullets lodged in the wall whenever he had an off day.

The two of them sat awkwardly for a few minutes neither one willing to speak first. This silence went on for several minutes and the only thing that they had a accomplished was a silent staring contest, Severus had won.

Sherlock, finally tired of the silence, spoke, "So what's your problem?"

"Well," Snape said uncertainly, "Is it all right if I explain this from the beginning?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes but still nodded his head in consent.

Severus took a deep breath and began his tale.

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" When I was younger I had a friend named Lily. She understood me, sympathized with me, and stayed with me. We had been friends forever, Her sister, Petunia, didn't like nor approve of me, she told Lily to look down on the poor, broken boy from Spinner's End. For about a year Lily listened to her. She did her best to stay away from me.

"That year was the worst year of my life, I was lonely and always bored. So I started to play with the boy next door to my family. He was always talking about how he was going to change the world, make it bigger and better, how he would rid the world of all nuisances. I joined him in his plotting, I had plans to. Plans to rule the world, plans that put the wrongdoers in their place. For a long time that was all I thought about, ruling the world. Eventually Lily satiated ignoring her sister and she came to talk with me more and more often. She didn't like my ideas of ruling the world. She said that they were dangerous, big plans meant big sacrifices, she was right.

"The two of us stayed friends until our fifth year at Hogwart"s, our private boarding school. I started to hang out with more 'questionable' people. They, like me, had dreams of conquering the world. Lily hated those people and I hated the people she he around, so naturally we grew apart. But I never forgot her.

"Me and my friends at Hogwarts had heard about this person called Jim Voldemort Moriarty. He had plans to dominate everything just like us, only he acted on his ideas. Some of us, not me, worshipped him. They called him their Lord, so he became Lord Voldemort. The rest of us just called him Jim, or Moriarty.

"Eventually Moriarty became aware of his followers, so he went to our school to recruit. My friends and I officially worked for the Lord.

"When you killed him, or when he killed himself, we all disbanded. We drifted onwards leaving that part of our lives behind. Some of his other followers are in jail. The rest, I think, are in hiding."

Sherlock interrupted, "So why are you here?" He asked in an exasperated tone.

Snape glared at him, "I'm getting to that."

He took a deep breath and continued his story, "As you know, Moriarty is back. Even though people know he's back he's in hiding. He still wants some dramatic re-entrance into the world of villainy. He called all of old followers up and asked them what they held most precious to them. If they said money he would ask for their wallet and burn it. If they said a pet he would kill the pet. If you said your true love...he would kill her. Now I fear that is the fate for my beloved Lily."

Severus choked on the last word and took a minute to collect himself before adding, "I want you to save her."

Sherlock sat stone faced for a few minutes absorbing what he had just heard. This man was and still is a follower of Moriarty. Nothing he said or did could be trusted, no matter what the circumstances were.

"Well?" Snape asked breaking the silence, "Will you take the job?"

"Get out," Sherlock said softly.

"What?" Severus asked, confused.

"I said get out."

"I...I don't understand," Snape said slowly.

"What part of 'get out' do you not understand?" Sherlock said sharply, "Go back to Moriarty and tell him not to be a coward and to face me himself. He needs to do his own work not to send sniveling little minions to do his dirty work. Also, if you're going to come to me with a case, try to make it at least a little interesting."

Highly affronted Severus got up from the armchair and swiftly exited the room without a word. Sherlock got up to close the door and saw a blank business card on the floor.

Sherlock picked it up and flipped it over to see a little handwritten note:

 _He wasn't lying Sherlock._

 _-J. M._

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 ** _Please R &R!_**

 ** _ **The characters in my fanfiction are property of Sherlock BBC created by Stephen Moffat BBC America and Harry Potter written by J.K. Rowling.**_**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Chapter 2! Again, thank you's to anybody that bothered to read any part of this story! I realize that this is going to be AU-y for both fandoms, so bear with me, it'll get better! Since Season Four hasn't come out yet I don't know anything about Moriarty's return so don't hate on me for this being totally unrealistic about his survival. Also, this chapter is going to be Moriarty P.O.V. so don't be confused. One more thing, Snape is in his twenties right now, just so you know. Please R &R!**

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13-year old James Voldemort Moriarty looked at the mess surrounding him. His mother would be incredibly frustrated at him. This was the third time that week that he had dismantled his computer. She didn't understand. He made a beautiful new computer each time, it was common sense that he had to take it apart and reassemble it at least ten times.

He sat in his room among the out-of-place computer parts and waited for his mother to come and yell at him to clean it up. He was hoping that she would beat her record time of twenty seconds. He waited and waited but she never came up.

Eventually he went downstairs to see what she was doing.

"Mum! Mum, where are you?" James began to wander around the house calling for his mother.

James went into the family room and shivered. One of the windows had a gaping hole right in the middle allowing the chilly Autumn air to fill the room. James carefully maneuvered his way around the broken glass from the window only to find small scatterings of blood on the custom made oriental rug. He walked past the ottoman and saw the heel of his mother's shoe.

"Mummy?" he whispered stepping closer to the blood stains.

James gagged as the smell of the blood hit his nose. He felt a wave of nausea roll over him but he still stepped closer. He stopped dead at the sight of his mother's body, lying limp on the floor.

"Mummy!" he cried running to her, "Mum!"

James' mom was lying on her side with one arm sprawled out towards her head. The were large areas of blood by her stomache and head. Her usually tidy brunette hair was matted together with congealed blood. Her dress was ripped and torn, and there were no signs of breathing.

"Mummmy?" He asked in a trembling voice already knowing that there would be no response.

James gasped and started sobbing. His mother was the only family he had had left. His father died when he was younger and all of his other relatives lived in the United States. Without a parent or guardian he would end up in the foster care system, left to the cruel hands of fate. James knew his only hope was to escape now and to never look back.

He laid a kiss on his mother's cold forehead and walked towards the door. He took one last look at his childhood home. James had lived his whole life there, every memory he had was in that house, all the good ones and the bad ones.

He knew leaving meant he could never come back, in fact he knew many things for his age, but what he didn't know was why this happened. His mother was clearly murdered, but why? She was an accountant, nothing special. Why of all people would she be the one to be murdered?

James shook his head, clearing his thoughts as he stepped out the door; and true to his word, he never looked back.

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 **20 Years Later**

Moriarty stared at the screen of his iPhone. His new client was being absolutely ridiculous. She expected to get paid for severely injuring a cabbie. _Severely injured._ She expected to get paid for _severely injuring_ somebody, not even a somebody-a cabbie. What was the world coming to when people expect to get paid for essentially having a lazy Thursday?

He set his phone down on his bookshelf. Lazy bums were not his primary concern, what he cared about right now was Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock knew he was back, everybody knew he was back. Broadcasting himself all over England make sure of that. What he wanted now was Sherlock on his side. He was a very valuable player in the game of good and evil and if Moriarty had him at his disposal he would be unstoppable.

But before he could get to Sherlock, Moriarty needed to reorganize his network. It had been almost three years since they had trembled before him, they were out of practice. If your followers didn't fear you they didn't respect you, this was necessary to know before going into the industry of crime as Moriarty had. The best way to intimidate them, for some reason, was death. Once they were all back in order he asked who or what was most precious to them and destroyed them, simple really.

Once his followers were back to trembling he could really get to work. He had already sent one decoy over to Sherlock, Severus Snape. Snape wasn't lying when he told Sherlock his tale, Moriarty was going to kill Lily no matter what happened, but it did stir things up, made it more fun to watch. If Sherlock didn't take the Snape bait Moriarty would just send in another man by the name of Lucius Malfoy.

However, there was one unexpected thing about the young lady Lily. It seemed that lately she was in a very suspicious profession. Lily seemed to have accumulated a number of other identities. She would often go missing for months or years at a time without an explanation. Whenever she returned she always claimed that it was for work, her bosses also confirmed what she said. The other suspicious thing about Lily was that whenever she wasn't off somewhere other people would go missing and wouldn't return until she left again. It was all _very_ strange. Still, if she was dead it wouldn't matter.

Moriarty stood staring off into space imagining the best way to kill Sherlock Holmes when a trembling voice interrupted his thoughts.

"S-sir, I am incredibly disappointed that I must inform you of a slight casualty."

Moriarty took a deep breath and turned around to face the man addressing him. His hair was dripping water-no, not water-when it slid down his perspiring forehead it was a bright red color. There were bruises all over his body, some where a nasty black and blue with splotches of a sickening shade of yellow. His nose also had a slow line of blood trickling from the left nostril, overall he did not look good.

"What casualty?" Moriarty asked in a bored tone.

The man, Rookwood, licked his bruised lips, "Well, the contact for the 'special pills'-well, he seemed to have 'accidentally' ingested them."

Moriarty shook his head slowly. People could be such letdowns, I mean nobody likes a person who just doesn't come through. It was almost as bad as people who said, "Don't kill the messenger." If the messenger it made perfect sense for them to be killed, didn't it?

Well, that's what Moriarty thought, and let's just say you could hear Roodwood's screams a block away.

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 **A/N: I know that this probably could have gone more into Moriarty's return, but you, like Sherlock, have to wait.**

 ** _ **The characters in my fanfiction are property of Sherlock BBC created by Stephen Moffat BBC America and Harry Potter written by J.K. Rowling.**_**


	4. Now Is The Time To Adopt!

**A/N: Hello People! So ummm, there is a reason for not updating-I swear! And that reason is-lack of ideas! You people are authors (most of you, I think) so you understand this. This was my first fic, and the plot was underdeveloped. Not to say it was a bad idea, or a bad plot, but it was underdeveloped. I still think this story can go far, and I would like it to, I just don't think it will with me. So... yeah. This story is officially up for ADOPTION! Break out the adoption party music! Anyways, please PM if you would like to take this story as yours.**

 **And since I feel bad about updating with essentially just an A/N, I will give you my short, glorified ending. Well, a JohnLock ending, I hope there are no complaints about that. It might be kind of, very, crack-ish, seeing as I am pretty just doing improv writing with no real plot. But whatever-enjoy!**

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Sherlock was puzzled. He didn't like being puzzled. It was all very... puzzling. This case with... something... was giving him trouble, it was all too complicated. He might have just given up right then and there if it weren't for John hadn't bursted into the flat.

"Sherlock!" he cried, panting, "You texted me that it was an emergency-what is it?"

Sherlock just stared at him blankly.

John muttered and cursed under his breath, "Of course, of course. You know, I have a surgery today. There's going to be some bloke who won't get the kidney he needs because you had an 'emergency.' I should've seen this coming," he said, running a hand through his hair, "This happens _all_ the bloody time. All the time."

While he spoke, Sherlock was still standing there, in the middle of the flat. Not a single expression had yet to cross his face.

"But John," he said slowly, "it's always an emergency when you aren't here."

And then they kissed, and Mary was forgotten, and they got married, and Snape was sad because he didn't get help, and they lived happily ever after. Until Sherlock put toes in the fridge again.

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 **Haha! Yay! I totally ended this fic in the best way possible, without a doubt. So, yeah, if you're interested in adopting this story (minus that little snippit of oddness) then just PM me... unless you don't have an account. Well, if you don't have an account, please get one. Ciao!**


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